


Hidden Depths

by OMOWatcher



Series: My RPF Dumpster [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, Sebastian Stan RPF
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Bladder holding, Consensual But Poorly Discussed Kink, Desperation, Desperation Play, F/M, Hidden Kink, Kissing, Making Out, Omorashi, PWP, Pee Play (a smidge), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Taking A Dive Headfirst Into A Dumpster..., Wager Gone Awry, Wetting, What the hell am I doing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMOWatcher/pseuds/OMOWatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian had only gone out for a quiet drink after a long day filming in Ireland. He certainly hadn't expected to meet someone who would manage to evoke his secret kink...</p><p>Or, what happens after a few beers when overestimating your ability to win a bet from a stranger.</p><p>A (slightly belated) gift for Sebastian's 34th birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Depths

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my fault, I swear. I was egged on by my enabler on Tumblr after studying [this photo](https://www.instagram.com/p/BF6LnipumsQ/) on Sebastian Stan's IG for more than a nanosecond, in combination with his comments in [this video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzKe131rbls&t=7m11s) (from about 7:10) about the suits in _The Martian_. 
> 
> This was betad but, in order to protect the guilty, all parties shall remain nameless. Any errors remaining are my own because I can't stop tweaking. Therefore, I present to you what shall, henceforth, be known as "filthy trash with no redeeming qualities"... A.K.A. Sebasturbation™.
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> I don't know Sebastian Stan. This bears no relation to reality, and any similarities in the scenario to Real Life™ are just coincidence. I intend no harm or upset to Sebastian, or his family and friends. Meg is completely made up from the depraved depths of my brain.
> 
> I'm so sorry...

Sebastian heard the door open, even over the music playing in the pub. To be fair, it wasn’t playing very loudly, and it wasn’t particularly busy; it was the middle of the week, after all. There were a few people socialising, a couple grabbing a bite to eat a few tables away, but it was quiet enough that he could lean back into the corner of the bay window with his book and people watch, without the constant stream of fans approaching him. Not that he ever really minded too much... his fans were generally polite, well mannered and enthusiastic, which just made him all the happier to give them an autograph or to snap a selfie with them. But sometimes it was nice just to relax and take a few moments to himself. Bray was proving a great place to do just that, even with the long days of shooting.

He was sprawled back against the surprisingly comfortable bench seat, legs stretched out in front of him, with a pint of something local half finished sitting on a cardboard beer mat. It was already damp from his previous drink, and the condensation was starting to run down the sides of this glass. He had heard all the jokes about how over here, they served beer warm and yes... it was a little warmer. But it was still cool enough to feel like heaven on a hot day like today. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was drinking right now, but he knew for sure that it wasn’t stout. He hadn’t ever been much of a Guinness fan back in the States, and not even being in the Emerald Isle had changed that. He preferred drinks that you _didn’t_ have to cut with a knife and fork to consume.

He’d already made decent headway into the reading recommendation of his dresser, ‘ _Wonders of the Universe_ ’ by someone called Brian Cox - who wasn’t the same person he’d worked with on ‘ _Kings_ ’, he was pretty sure, unless he had a super secret particle physics doctorate hidden away somewhere - but the clunk-squeak of the door drew him away from the page and he looked up. The young woman walking through the door wasn’t dressed up; just a pair of jeans, an asymmetric sleeveless v-neck top that was snug under the bust but flowing below, barely skimming her hips, topped off by a stunning pair of lace up kitten heels. Sebastian sat forwards a little and watched over the top of the book as she ordered a drink and paid, before turning and looking around the room speculatively. Like her clothes, she clearly wasn’t made up for a big night out, just enough to effortlessly make her eyes seem smoky and enormous, and her lips plump and soft. Her hair was pulled back into a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and few strands were already escaping to frame her face.

Her eyes met his, and he fought a blush at being caught staring, holding her gaze instead. She smiled warmly, taking a sip from her glass before mouthing “ _May I?_ ” and Sebastian nodded, returning her smile and straightening up. He watched as she crossed the few yards from the bar and, a moment later, she slid into the bench seat, leaving just enough room between them to satisfy etiquette.

“Hi, there.” she said, snagging a spare beer mat from the next table and placing her drink onto it. Coke and something, by the look of it, Sebastian thought.

“Hi back. Sebastian,” he introduced himself.

“Meg,” the woman replied, turning to face him, one knee bent on the seat and her cheek resting against her hand, the elbow propped on the back of the bench.

“Not a local then?” he asked, his eyebrows cocked in response to her accent. She chuckled and the sound sent a small frisson down his spine. From this distance, he could smell her perfume. Not overpowering, but there, vanilla, almond, musky, sweet. He couldn’t help but wonder if her skin would taste the same way.

“No... no, I’m just visiting friends. But then, _you’re_ not a local either,” she added, smirking playfully at him. He laughed a little himself at that.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. I’m working, though,” he replied, rolling his eyes jokingly. Meg snorted.

“Oh, my heart bleeds, Sebastian. Such a tough life you live, but I suppose somebody has to make the sacrifice,” she teased gently. “Just ignore me. I always wanted to do musical theatre myself, but it just all went wrong...” He frowned a little at her hang-dog expression.

“Why... what happened?” he asked, before adding, “If you want to tell me, of course.”

“It was quite simple really, “ she told him, her face sombre. “I’m completely tone deaf!”

Meg grinned as Sebastian burst out laughing, throwing his head back.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his cheek. “Touché,” He reached for his drink at the same moment that Meg leant forwards to take hers, and the backs of their fingers brushed. Electricity fizzed through his arm, then lower, pooling in his stomach even from that tiny touch. He looked up her through his lashes, gratified to see her lips had parted just a little. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt that, then...

 

~ X ~

 

By the time that they’d both finished their drinks, Sebastian and Meg were chatting like old friends. Well... maybe old friends with benefits. It turns out her sense of humour was a close match for his own, and that they had a good few interests in common, alongside the chemistry between them. He tipped his head back, lips curled around the edge of the glass and downing the last couple of mouthfuls of ale. He could see her gazing at him in his peripheral vision, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow, and he felt heat settle low in his belly.

“Another?” he asked, wiggling his empty glass. She nodded, draining the remnants of her own before handing him her’s as well.

“Please,” she said. “Jack and Coke, if you wouldn’t mind,” and he grinned,

“Sure, coming right up!” he said, standing and walking over to the bar. As he waited for their drinks, he glanced up and caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bottles of spirits, huffing out a quiet chuckle as she openly admired his backside in his admittedly skinny jeans. When she looked up, her eyes meeting his, he simply winked at her, and she grinned ruefully, shaking her head at him. As the barman pushed the drinks towards him, and handed him the change, he shoved the mess of notes and coins into his back pocket, and carried the glasses back to their table.

“You are a menace,” he told her, wagging his finger at her, his voice low and his eyes sultry. “ **I** am going to the bathroom. Don’t you _dare_ go anywhere before I get back!”

Meg smirked, and sighed exaggeratedly.

“I don’t know, you boys and your bladders. None of you can hold it in for any length of time, I swear. Us ladies can't make use of the nearest alley quite so easily. Honestly, I once spent over an hour in the queue at a club; the entire line was full of bouncing girls with crossed legs in shamefully high heels and more than one of them ended up running for the exit with a damp patch!” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she pretending to scold him, before glancing at her watch. “In fact, I bet you couldn’t even make it to kicking out time,”

Sebastian’s eyebrows had ridden gradually higher and higher as she spoke, and the warmth in his belly had turned into a roaring fire. He’d never told anyone about this... thing. About how sometimes it just felt good to push himself a bit rather than just going to the bathroom straight away. Or about how watching a pretty woman shift and wriggle would make him so hard that he ached. He’d tried surreptitiously nudging one of his college girlfriends towards the topic, but her reaction had made him determined that this would be something he kept to himself in future.

“Bet I could,” he said, before he even had a chance to reconsider what he was doing. “What are the terms?”

Meg grinned wickedly and patted the seat next to her. He sat down, his thigh snug against hers.

“Easy. You just have to hold it until last orders. That’s half past eleven. It’s just gone ten o'clock now, so that’s less than an hour and a half. You don’t have to get any more to drink, but you need to finish this one,” she tapped the full pint glass, “by half past ten. If you don’t make it...” she paused, looking him up and down once, before leaning closer to continue in a whisper, “I get to choose exactly what to do with you first when we finally get back to one of our rooms.”

Sebastian bit his lip, feeling his jeans tighten. “And if I win?” he asked huskily, reaching between them to twist a strand of her hair around his forefinger. Meg smiled.

“Well then,” she shrugged, “I get to choose what happens second time around.”

 

~ X ~

 

When Sebastian had initially decided to go and pee, he really hadn’t needed to go very much. It was only a tiny niggle, but he figured, while he was up, he may as well deal with the situation. Now though, just twenty minutes later, he very definitely needed the bathroom. He wasn’t in imminent danger of losing the bet, but he was finding it harder to ignore it for any length of time, despite Meg’s hand carding through the short hair at the nape of his neck or resting on his thigh underneath the table. He tried to figure out when he’d last actually been. Not since he got to the pub, that’s for sure. After the shoot finished for the day? He wasn’t sure. Maybe. Or it may even have been mid-afternoon, when he had a break between scenes. Either way, it was hours ago, and he was now working through his third pint as well. He returned the glass to the table, and dropped his hand to cover hers as it sat on his leg, feeling her turn it and link fingers with him. His other arm was draped casually half along the back of the seat and half around her shoulders and he leaned forwards, brushing his nose into her hair. He inhaled the scent, fruity and sweet, as the silky strands tickled his cheek.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “you smell so good...” He felt, as well as heard, her breath catch in her throat in response. Her fingers tightened ever so slightly around his, and when he pulled himself back to cup his palm around the side of her jaw that was currently turned away from potential prying eyes, she leant into his touch. When he next spoke, his voice was low and sultry. “If we weren’t being quite so closely scrutinised by the group of three disapproving women over the other side of the bar, I’d kiss you right now.”

Meg’s eyes drifted shut as he brushed his thumb across her lips, shivering at the imagery and the caress. Sebastian had to bite his own lip as the tip of her tongue flicked out to lave the pad of his thumb, and he couldn’t resist sliding it further into her mouth. When she sucked, her tongue twirling around the first joint, it took all his strength to restrict himself to letting out a ragged breath.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he told her, reluctantly slipping his thumb from her lips.

“But what a way to go!” she sighed, flopping sideways against the back of the bench.

Sebastian chuckled, shifting slightly in his seat so that his legs sat closer together. Meg glanced down, cocking an eyebrow at him. He had been happily manspreading all evening so the change was noticeable. The corner of his lips quirked up and he gave a tiny half shrug. The distraction had been nice, but now the weight sitting in his pelvis was no longer something he could ignore. He glanced at his watch. Half past ten. Just an hour to go. He was pretty sure he could manage that without too much fuss. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been held up, either when he was out partying in his younger days, at a publicity event or even on set. He winced internally thinking about ‘ _The Martian_ ’. That had been a close shave, and after he finally got out of the damn spacesuit and could pee, he’d had to take himself back to his trailer, hastily jamming his hand inside his pants and coming after just half a dozen quick strokes. Reaching for his glass, he necked the last inch of beer, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth to catch a stray drop and silently burping against the back of his hand.

“‘Scuse you!” Meg chuckled and he gave her a slightly apologetic look. “So... where have they put you up around here?” she asked.

“There are a few holiday cottages that they’ve rented out, about ten minutes away.” he told her. He stifled a laugh when she oohed.

“Seriously though, a cottage? Damn, I just have a room at the old place down the road and while I’m sure that the landlady would love if you came and visited the place like the movie stars did in the olden days, your cottage is probably a bit more... um... discreet,” she explained and he nodded in agreement. Big hotels were one thing, you could, strangely enough, get privacy in the crowd.

“So, you going to walk me back to my place then?” he asked with a wink and she giggled.

“Depends if you can even walk, Sebastian. Your leg’s going already,”

He looked down when she gestured with her chin. Sure enough, his right leg had started to bounce and he hadn’t even realised that he’d been doing it. Stilling it, he heard Meg cluck her tongue in disappointment.

“Damn. You look so damn hot when you fidget, as well,” she said quietly, her pupils dilating. He shifted in his seat - partly from the signals coming from his rapidly filling bladder and partially because his jeans were suddenly insanely tight. Her breath stuttered at his movement, and when she glanced down at his lap, at the bulge growing further as she watched, he saw the goosebumps spring up on her arms, spreading along her skin in a ripple. When her hand landed halfway up his tense thigh, fingers just brushing the inseam, he felt himself twitch and let out a shuddery breath, slowly reaching over to smooth his large palm along her leg in return.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he asked, his voice rough and she swallowed, nodding vigorously.

“So very okay,” she told him, “but if you keep doing it, I may end up in your lap regardless of the three witches behind me,” The noise that left his throat was half low moan and half chuckle.

“God, Meg. Let’s just get out of here,” he muttered.

“You giving up?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment behind a smirk but not quite managing it.

“Not in the slightest, _dragă_ ,” he said, throbbing at her visible reaction to the endearment. “You just said I needed to wait until last orders. You never said I had to be in the pub at the time.”

“Clever...very clever.” she told him, with a hundred watt smile. “Let’s go!”

Sebastian wasted no time reaching for his discarded hoodie, draping it across his forearm and standing up, casually hiding the very obvious evidence of his arousal. Leaning over, he breathed his next words against her ear.

“Follow me out in a few minutes then turn left and start walking. I promise I’ll play fair. But don’t take too long about it or who know’s what’ll happen.” he warned, his lips barely brushing her skin.

The choked off whimper that followed drove him out of the door, book tucked under his arm, and far enough up the street so that he could duck out of sight between two buildings. Looking quickly either way, and once he was sure nobody was around to see, he dropped his free hand to his groin, pressing hard and squeezing his thighs together tightly. His arousal while he was sitting had muted the complaints of his bladder enough that he hadn’t realised quite how full he’d got until he stood up. It had taken every shred of his acting skill to not tie himself in a knot with both hands between his thighs like a toddler as the intense urgency had spread through his belly. Walking had been even worse, with each foot fall simply serving to jolt his already sensitive bladder and worsen the urge even further. He tightened his pelvic muscles hard, not relaxing until a good ten seconds passed, which seemed to dim the desperate desire just a touch. Only when he was sure that he had full control back did he straighten up and gradually reduce the pressure from the heel of his hand.

He carefully reached up to pop the top button of his jeans, and loosen his belt a notch. He knew that he wasn’t holding nearly enough to actually make his belly swell, but still, the press of his belt into the skin was just adding to the rapidly increasing pressure. And he knew, from far too many experiences, that in these situations, every little bit of help makes a difference. Glancing at his watch, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other restlessly. He wasn’t quite sure how they’d got to ten minutes to eleven already, but that meant he only had to make it another forty minutes. But God, he needed to go so badly already.

Seconds ticked by as he waited for Meg to appear. By the time he finally saw her heading across the entrance to the alley, another five minutes had passed and he’d almost believed she had changed her mind. He stepped out to follow her, his breath hissing between his teeth as the shockwave hit his bladder. She started, spinning to face him before letting out her breath, hand over her chest. He gave her an apologetic look.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he explained, glancing away while bouncing his foot and shifting his weight. “Thought you’d had a change of heart.”

When he looked up, he groaned deep in his chest, despite his discomfort. She was staring at him hungrily, her pupils blown so wide he could barely make out the rim of colour around them. Her mouth hung open as she watched him struggling to hold onto control of his body. Before he could say anything more, she lunged towards him, walking him backwards into the darkness of the alleyway and up against the rough brickwork.

Sebastian whimpered. He honest-to-God, whimpered. The sudden, surprise thud as he collided with the wall seemed to compress his bladder from both sides, and he doubled over, hands back between his legs as he ground against his wrists to stem the flood threatening to burst free at any moment.

“Oh Jesus, look at you,” Meg cried softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I was so sure you’d cheated when you came out of here, but you didn’t, did you?”

Sebastian smiled wryly, as he gradually regained a more secure hold over the control of his body.

“You only had to ask, _dragă,_ ” he told her, freeing one trembling hand to run through his hair. “I’da told you how bad I need to go,”

Her eyes rolled back at his admission, her groan arrowing straight to his dick, and as she reached for him, he pulled her into him, his other hand still wedged into his groin as he finally felt her lips crash into his own. Her fingers tugging in his hair made his eyes flutter shut as he groaned into her mouth, licking into her, teasing, exploring, stroking, his free hand shifting to cup the back of her neck and holding her so he could keep nipping and sucking. She tasted of caramel, vanilla, a faint smoky back-note from the Jack, sweet and sharp, but underneath that, a taste that was uniquely hers.  When one of her slim hands slipped from his hair to clasp his hip for a moment, before sliding across and squeezing underneath the hand he still had against his rapidly burgeoning erection, he let her, pressing them both hard against frantic flesh and bucking into the caress as her fingers wrapped as far around him as they could through his jeans, letting her swallow his bitten back moans as she took her turn exploring his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until he finally broke away, his head falling back against the wall as she let her lips trail a ribbon of kisses along his neck.

“God... _Futu-i!_ ” he panted, his hips rocking helplessly between the friction against his aching dick and the pangs from his still swelling bladder. “Meg, fuck, you have to stop,” he warned her, “or I swear to God I’m going to come in my pants like a kid and this,” he bucked into her grasp for emphasis, “is also about the only thing stopping me from soaking myself right now.”

Meg’s groan as she pulled away, nearly took him over the edge by itself, but his abdomen was aching now, so badly, and the distraction ensured that he managed to wrest back control once more. She stretched out a trembling hand towards him.

“Please... Sebastian... I need...” she started, before curling her fingers back and withdrawing.

“What do you need, _dragă?_ Tell me...” he ground out, even as he squirmed on the spot, helpless to stop moving.

“Your stomach, I need to touch your stomach...” she breathed out in a rush and Sebastian whined, even as he tugged his t-shirt far enough up over his torso to expose the taut muscles underneath. He couldn’t prevent the jerk that went through him, his body automatically guarding his distended bladder as her fingers traced over his skin, following the outline of each muscle with a barely-there touch that both taunted and inflamed him. Just the barest contact was causing waves of contraction against his aching pelvic muscles.

“So full,” Meg whispered in awe, before gently pressing her fingertips into him below his navel. Sebastian half sobbed, half laughed.

“You’re going to find out precisely how full if you do that again,” he warned her with a gasp. “I don’t even know, or care, how long is left on the bet, but if I don’t get to the bathroom very, **very** quickly, _dragă_ , I’m going to piss myself,”

Pushing off the wall and letting his t-shirt fall haphazardly, still half untucked, he grabbed her hand and started pulling her with him as he hurried them along the street, his hand clenched into a fist on the top of his thigh because he was damned if any member of the public was going to catch him grabbing himself, even though every step was slamming shards of pain through his belly, his pelvic muscles twitching as he mentally begged them to _hold on, hang on, just wait, wait, wait_... His lower lip was permanently trapped between his teeth now as he searched his mind for every last technique he knew to put the inevitable off for _just a little bit longer, almost there, almost home_.

As they rounded the corner and exited onto the coast road, the sound of the waves breaking against the sand hit them and immediately Sebastian doubled up, legs knotted together as he buried both hands into his crotch. The book he’d been carrying slipped from under his arm.

“Shit, shit, shit, no!” he begged through gritted teeth, feeling a hot spurt soaking into the fabric of his boxer briefs. He finally managed to regain control, but only after a second. It wasn’t even enough to take the edge off the unbearable pressure, merely enough to make the need to empty himself - _can’t, can’t, not here_ \- worse. His face flushed, even though his jeans were still dry under his hand, but he didn’t dare let go of himself by now. Meg, bless her, had picked up his book and was rubbing the small of his back soothingly while whispering encouragement.

“God, Sebastian... Maybe you should just go over to the beach...” she suggested, glancing around the blessedly deserted street. But Sebastian shook his head, firmly.

“No way. That’s a photo I do **not** need someone getting, At least this” he gestured at himself as he slowly straightened up, though still wriggling uncontrollably, “can be potentially passed off as cramps or something,”

Meg nodded dubiously, and held out her hand to him, He took it, with a smile that was more grimace, and started along the road. He could see the cottage from where they were. It was only a couple of hundred yards away at most and he had already dropped her hand to dig into his pocket for the key. Unfortunately, the problem with skinny jeans is that they’re skinny, and every movement of his hand was transferred to his exquisitely tender stomach. By the time he finally touched his fingertips to the keyring, he’d already felt himself leak again, and this time he knew that his jeans would have darkened under his hand, the wetness wicking through the thick cotton, but he didn’t stop walking. If he stopped now, he was pretty sure he’d be lost.

“Meg, I need you to do something for me.” he told her, keeping his eyes forwards and holding the key out towards her. “Go up ahead and unlock the door for me, okay? The blue one,”

He barely heard her reply as she took off in front of him, book in one hand and key in the other. He groaned out loud, a string of curses spilling from his lips, first in English, then Romanian, then even one or two in a couple of other languages that he’d picked up along the way. By the time he reached the end of the garden path, his whole being centred on the agonising throbbing between his hips, and the taste of copper in his mouth where he’d bitten a hole in his lip. The sight of the light spilling from the doorway had him bent over and desperately writhing once more, leaking again as his muscles almost gave up now that relief was within reach. To Sebastian’s horror, although he managed to slow the flow to a meagre trickle, this time it wasn’t stopping completely. As awareness dawned on him that he really was going to lose control and soak his jeans, his only thought was _gotta get inside_ , and he stumbled towards the doorway, even as trails of urine darkened the crotch around his hand, streaking down the inside of his right thigh.

Meg’s eyes widened as she took in his condition, immediately stepping back and slamming the door behind him as he finally made it inside. The downstairs bathroom was thankfully right by the front door, and he swung himself into the room, scrabbling at the buttons of his fly, his fingers thick and clumsy in their urgency.

“Shit, shit, shit...” he cursed, his voice filled with frustration, until suddenly Meg, was there, toeing off his sneakers before gently pushing him backwards. He made a confused noise before she shushed him.

“It’s alright, Sebastian. Get in the shower before you end up standing in a puddle.” she explained.

“Holy fuck!” he whimpered, tugging at his hair with the hand not holding onto himself, his face a picture of confusion. He was embarrassed as all hell, but fuck, if this wasn’t kind of hot. He’d never gone this far when he played these games in the past; the last time he’d had an accident he was still in primary school, and the humiliation had never truly left him. But then his bladder cramped down, hard, and all coherent thought left his head; he quickly loosened his death grip on himself as piss gushed out of him so hard that it was audible even through his jeans, spilling and soaking his crotch before drenching the inside of his right leg, turning the blue denim almost black, and spattering against the floor of the shower stall around his bare feet. For a moment, he greyed out. The sheer relief was so intense that he actually groaned, and when he felt a hand interlocking with his, he gasped and squeezed back, linking their fingers. He barely heard Meg asking if she could touch him, but the relief felt so incredible that he almost begged.

“ _Da_ , yes, please, fuck...” he moaned, crying out as her other hand settled over his groin, scalding hot liquid spilling through the glistening material and between her spread fingers. He rocked into her palm and white hot arousal forced its way along his spine, to the very tips of his fingers and toes, even his scalp prickling under the onslaught.

As the flow tapered off, his bladder finally, finally empty, his whole body trembled, his knees turned to water at the surge of endorphins and adrenaline still coursing through his bloodstream. He swallowed hard, gradually coming back down. That had... well, perhaps not beaten orgasms... but it came a pretty close second, he decided, slumping against the tiles behind him and closing his eyes while he caught his breath.

“What’s the time?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He smiled beatifically when Meg chuckled, her hand still cupping him through his rapidly cooling jeans.

“11:27pm.” she told him, giggling at the pout he produced when he realised he’d lost the bet. She stepped up to the edge of the shower and stood on tiptoes, tugging his hand until he opened his eyes and leant down to slot his lips against hers.

“Thank you,” Sebastian murmured, resting his forehead against hers when they finally parted, and she shook her head.

“Least I could do, really. This wasn't _exactly_ what I had in mind by 'not making it’,” she admitted, then, after a beat, added. “At least, not without discussion first. Shouldn’t have kept you waiting so long.”

Sebastian chuckled, running his hand through his hair. It wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to spend his evening, and he was pretty sure he was supposed to be feeling a whole lot more humiliated than he was right now. But he’d deal with that tomorrow. Tonight he had other plans.

“So, seeing as I lost, what’s my forfeit to be?” he asked, dropping her hand to start shucking out of his jeans, which had turned horribly sticky and itchy in a surprisingly short time.

“Well, first off, you’re going to tell me where your washing machine is so that I can throw these in,” she told him, holding out her hands for his wet clothes, “and then I’m going to come back here and join you in the shower, and demonstrate that my mouth is good for something other than terrible bets and off key singing,” she finished, winking at him.

Sebastian’s laughter continued even after he’d finished stripping and turned on the spray of hot water. Tonight, he decided, was going to be a whole lot of fun, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll get my coat...


End file.
